


Crashing Down

by der_tanzer



Series: Hitting the Fence [4]
Category: Riptide (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-20
Updated: 2010-05-20
Packaged: 2017-10-09 14:44:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/der_tanzer/pseuds/der_tanzer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Missing scene from Requiem for Icarus.  For everyone who wondered what happened between the desert and the beach.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crashing Down

**Author's Note:**

> References events from my own personal Murray-Quinlan relationship universe as well as canon events.

Lieutenant Quinlan stood his ground and the car struck him. Everyone saw that. Everyone could understand it. He never backed down, no matter what. Not even when he was wrong. But still they froze, staring in disbelief as his body flew through the air. He hit hard, too hard, and the solid thud broke their paralysis. Nick and Cody reached him first, turned him over, hushed his protests.

"Let's get him in the Mimi," Nick said, his voice filled with fear. As he and Cody lifted the broken body, Murray came running, stripping off his floppy hat and fake mustache. He climbed up into the Mimi and helped them slide the heavier man inside.

"You got him, Boz?" Cody shouted above the rotor wash. Murray nodded, his thin face pale and stunned. "Where do you want me, Nick?"

"Up top. I need a navigator."

They climbed up to the cockpit and put their headsets on. Murray forgot his and no one reminded him. His mind was filled with the man in his arms, the stocky body laid across his slender thighs. He remembered the times Quinlan had been there for him, the faith he had shown, on occasion, and the times he had listened when he didn't have to. There were a lot of times he hadn't listened when he should have, but in spite of his dislike for them and his near constant rooting against them, he had almost always been an ally. He accepted their help when he needed it and gave them credit when it was due, which was sometimes more than they did. Murray promised himself he would do better. He wouldn't forget again, and so long as Quinlan was in the hospital he would be there, too.

"Bozinsky," he whispered, half opening his eyes. "Is that you, geek-o?"

"It's me, Lieutenant. You just be still now, you're gonna be all right. We're taking you to a hospital."

"The worm's turned now, huh, Bozinsky?" he said, as if he hadn't heard.

"The—the worm? No, Lieutenant—Ted—it's okay. You're gonna be okay."

"I never thought it'd come to this," he sighed, blood bubbling up on his lips. "Swore I'd never fly with Ryder and now I'm gonna die in his fucking pink monstrosity."

"No, no, you aren't dying. T—Ted, really. You can't die. I didn't and you're—you're so much stronger than me. You're the brave one, the strong one—you're gonna be fine."

"Don't bullshit me," he said, half smiling this time. "It belittles us both." He closed his eyes, laboring hard for breath, and Murray pulled a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe away some of the blood. The dark eyes opened on him once more, glassy now with hopeless pain.

"I'm gonna die, Bozinsky. I can feel it. It's okay. I lived a life, raised a child, served my country. Broke Allen's nose a couple times. Now, God willing, my last act will to be to take a shit in Ryder's helicopter. That's fine by me."

Murray was sure that was a joke and worried a little less. A dying man wouldn't say such things. He wiped Quinlan's face again, feeling how cool the skin was in spite of the sweat. Shock, for sure. Probably massive internal bleeding. He wished they could hurry a little and remembered what Nick had told him once. Hurry isn't always in Mimi's vocabulary. No, not when it mattered.

"Don't give up," he whispered fiercely. "Don't you quit, damn you. You wouldn't let me quit and I'm—I'm just a topolino. A goofball in taped glasses, remember? You just keep breathing and we'll be there soon. That's all you have to do, Ted. Breathe."

"I'm glad it's you, Bozinsky. If it had to be one of you jokers, I'm glad it's you." His eyes closed again and a few seconds later his breathing stopped. Murray slid out from under him and began CPR, feeling broken ribs move under his hands, tasting blood on the dead man's lips. He was crying without knowing it, his tears falling on Quinlan's face, somehow knowing and not knowing that it was pointless to go on.

"Boz? Hey, Boz, what's going on back there? Murray, can you hear me?"

"He doesn't have his headset on," Cody said. "I'll go see." He swung out of his seat and dropped down into the hold.

"Murray, what happened?" he shouted, kneeling beside his friend.

"He stopped breathing. Do the compressions for me, Cody; my arms are killing me." Murray returned to his breathing without waiting for an answer and Cody clasped his hands over Quinlan's heart. But the first compression turned his stomach and he stopped.

"Leave him alone, Boz. This is no good."

Murray didn't seem to hear and Cody put a headset on him, then picked up another for himself. This time even Nick heard him.

"He's dead, Murray. He's all busted up inside; there's nothing we can do."

"No. No, he was just talking to me. He was just here."

Cody grabbed him around the shoulders and pulled him away. Murray fought him for maybe the first time in their long association, surprising him with the panicky strength of his skinny body. Cody grabbed Murray's wrists and crossed his arms over his chest, pinning him in a human straightjacket, trying not to shout.

"Stop it, Boz. Just stop it. Listen to me now, okay? His—his ribs are all over the place in there, cutting him to pieces. CPR can't help. Maybe nothing could. Now let's just sit over here, okay? We'll be down in a couple minutes and—and this will be over. Okay? Murray?"

But he'd already stopped listening. Murray took off his headset and turned his face against Cody's shoulder, blocking out the sight of the body on the floor. He didn't move until the Mimi landed and then it was just to lie down when Cody let him go. He kept his eyes closed while Quinlan was taken away, vaguely heard Nick say to leave him alone, that Murray was okay, and wondered if he was. Murray thought he might be insane.

***

The next thing he was really aware of was Mimi touching down again at the Pier 56 helipad. Nick and Cody came back, sat him up and led him out into the fading sunlight. They were talking to each other but he didn't really hear. He climbed automatically into the back of the Jimmy and closed his eyes. All he could hear was the sound of rotors, the dull thud of the car striking Quinlan's thick body, the gravelly voice saying _I'm glad it's you_. Why had he said that? What could it possibly have meant?

"Come on, Murray," someone said and he looked around, eyes wide and startled, for the one who wasn't there. But it hadn't been his voice. Whose then?

"Nick?"

"We're home, Murray. Let's go."

He let Nick help him out of the truck, not seeing his friend's disgust at the blood, still tacky, on his hand. But Nick held on in spite of it and walked him to the boat.

"I'm going to take a shower," Murray said dully. "I won't be long."

"You want some company?" Nick offered, shrugging at Cody's questioning glance.

"No, thank you. I think I want to be alone." He went into the head and they heard the lock click, a strangely unfamiliar sound these last couple years.

"He's not okay, is he?" Cody whispered. Nick shrugged again.

"I don't think so. But he will be. He got too close to Quinlan somehow and it's hitting him hard but he'll bounce back. For such a skinny guy he bounces pretty good."

"I don't think this is funny, Nick. He's lost a lot of friends lately. Bradley, Haffner, that magician guy…and don't forget that kid from rehab who killed himself. And of course it was Quinlan who talked him through that one, not us."

"Hey, speak for yourself. I did a lot of talking."

"Yeah, so did I, but not right away. Not when he really needed us."

"He always needs something. Look, I'm gonna change my clothes, get some of this blood off, and when he comes out we'll talk about it. He'll be okay."

Murray listened to the rise and fall of their voices, barely audible over the shower, and didn't come out until they were gone. He wrapped himself in a towel and went down to his computer room where he still kept a set of pajamas. When Nick and Cody came looking for him, he was asleep in his little cot and they let him be.

***

In the wee hours of the morning Murray went to the rear stateroom and crawled into bed with his friends. Lovers, really, and right now he needed to be loved. Nick opened his arms, half awake, and hugged the smaller body close. Murray woke him slowly, with light caresses and insistent kisses, and eventually Cody woke, too.

***

At breakfast Murray seemed almost like his old self. Quieter, maybe, but they chalked that up to his being tired. He ate what was put in front of him, even though Cody cooked it, and participated in the discussion about polishing the bright work before it got too hot. But when Nick mentioned that Quinlan's daughter had called about the funeral arrangements, Murray's eyes went far away and he left the table without comment.

"What was that?" Cody asked no one in particular. Nick answered anyway.

"I don't know but I'm going to find out." He got up and went to the office where Murray always hid, Cody close behind him.

"Hey, Boz, what's up?" he asked gently.

"Nothing. I have this research I wanted to finish—you know, for the—the thing. That we were doing last week."

"That can wait a few minutes, can't it?"

"Sure. What do you need?"

Nick sat down on the cot and spun Murray's chair around with his foot.

"We need you to talk to us. You're upset and we understand that; anyone would be. For a guy with no friends you've lost a lot of them in the last few months."

"I don't need to talk about it, though. We've been all over it and I—I'm fine."

"No you're not," Cody said, so forcefully that Murray flinched. "You're miserable and anyone can see it. Quinlan was some kind of friend to you and…"

"I don't want to talk about him. Please, I really need to finish this—this thing."

But now that they were on the other side of the monitor, Nick and Cody could see that the computer wasn't turned on.

"Please, Boz. We just want to help."

"But I don't need any help. I should—I need to go for a walk. I haven't had my walk today."

"You want some company?" Nick asked, just as he had last night. And, like last night, Murray said no. He pressed the button as if to turn off his computer, inadvertently turning it on, and escaped before they could argue.

"Funny how he waits until now to start acting like a man," Cody said, half smiling.

"What's that mean?"

"Wanting to fuck in the dark and refusing to talk in daylight. What are we supposed to do?"

"Wait, I guess. Give him a little time. Murray's not used to people dying in his arms like we are. He wouldn't be our Boz if it didn't mess him up a little."

***

Murray avoided the pier where he might see people he knew and went down to the beach. He loved the expanse of sand and sea, where one limitless horizon met another, himself balanced perfectly between them. The way he felt balanced between his lovers, between his jobs, supported in a net by both sides of every conflicting need and emotion in his life. His lovers were men of one world each and he lived in both, walking the line between them with more ease than he walked the sand beneath his feet.

His leg hardly hurt anymore and he'd given up the cane a few weeks ago, although when he was tired, he still limped a little. Today he didn't notice. The breeze off the ocean was salty and sweet, the beach uncrowded on a weekday morning. He walked alone, not speaking to anyone or even thinking much, as the hours slipped away. And gradually the truth began to sink in.

When he saw Nick and Cody with their friends, Doug and Kathy, he wondered where they'd come from. If they'd maybe been looking for him. He stood atop the dune for a moment until they noticed him. Nick and Cody broke away and moved toward him more quickly, so he went to meet them. There was an ugly suspicion in his mind that had to be confirmed or denied as soon as possible.

"What is it, Murray? Something wrong?"

"Lieutenant Quinlan," he said quietly. "He's dead."

Nick and Cody exchanged a look, asking each other what they should say, and after a long time Nick nodded.

"Yeah, Boz," Cody said softly. "He's dead."

The strength went out of Murray's spindly legs and he sat down hard in the sand. Nick knelt in front of him, touched his thin face tenderly, felt the tears on his cheeks.

"Go ahead and cry, babe," he whispered. "It's okay. Everything's going to be okay."


End file.
